Tis The Season
by office teaparty
Summary: "You got him a birthday present?" "I had no choice, he got me these jeans last Christmas." from Extradition II: The Actual Extradition Party . Basically, the story of the Christmas Despereaux got Shawn those jeans. Shawn/Pierre because I can. Rated T for some sexual-ness.


Title: 'Tis The Season  
Fandom: Psych  
Pairings/Characters: Burton Guster, OC, Shespereaux (Shawn/Despereaux, and that's what I'm calling it. I like every ship to have a name.)  
Summary: "You got him a birthday present?" "He bought me these jeans last Christmas, I had no choice." from Extradition II: The Actual Extradition Part. Basically, the story of when Shawn received the jeans from Despereaux. Shawn/Pierre because I can.  
**A/N: This one is actually dedicated my lovely friend Olga. Something tells me…she'll like this. ;)**

Shawn Spencer, who was giddy with holiday spirit, was humming 'Deck The Halls' as he stood on his computer chair, adorning the top of the Psych Christmas tree with a gussied up pineapple.

Burton Guster, who vehemently yet silently disapproved of several things in this picture, continued to string and also eat the popcorn garlands, feet firmly on the floor.

Ray Clements, who hated his life a little more than usual today, went up to the green-accented building and rang the doorbell. He heard a crash and a few yells and wondered just how much he needed this job as he shifted the packages in his arms.

And Pierre Despereaux, who was enjoying a surprisingly quiet holiday season at the British Columbia Correctional Centre, smiled at the news that his presents had reached Santa Barbara, California.

* * *

"Gus, who was that?" Shawn Spencer caressed his no doubt injured leg as Gus carried in a group of packages. Shawn lit up.

"UPS guy. Looked miserable. A little spooked, too. I told you not to stand on your computer chair for that very reason, Shawn." He gestured to the mess Shawn's fall had created; the doorbell and caught Shawn off guard and caused him to fall backwards. The chair would've knocked the Christmas tree over had Gus not caught it, but the popcorn could not be saved as it flew in all directions and in some cases knocked things off their desks, while the pineapple was worse for wear in the center of the room. Gus had chastised Shawn all the way to the door, opening it to a more than slightly shaken Ray Clements. In short, the place was a wreck and they had scared the delivery guy, all in under one minute. A new record.

Shawn hobbled on over to Gus' desk, where he had all the packages spread out. "Gus, don't be The Grinch Who Stole Popcorn." He clapped his hands together. "Now how many of these have my name on it?"

Gus scanned them all over and, to Shawn's dismay, pulled out the smallest of the bunch. "Actually, just this one. Doesn't even say who it's from."

Shawn took the package and perched himself on the corner of his desk. Gus was right-there was no clues as to where the package had come from. He shrugged and opened it anyway, never one to turn down a gift. As he unwrapped it, he realized it was the type of box used to pack clothes. Sure enough, the box contained some kind of clothing wrapped neatly in decorative tissue paper. A small envelope was atop it, addressed to him from…the British Columbia Correctional Centre. He all but jumped out of his seat, catching Gus' attention.

"What is it, Shawn?"

He waved the envelope with a bright smile as if Gus was supposed to understand. When he didn't, he preceded to open it and read the message aloud:

"Dear Shawn,

Sorry I couldn't join you this holiday season-prison, you know. I figured in my absence that this was the least I could do. I do hope you like it; I put quite a bit of time and thought into this gift.

Sincerely yours,

Pierre Despereaux."

Gus had stopped seriously listening when Shawn had reached the word 'prison' and was shaking his head in disapproval. Shawn couldn't care less, however, as he ungracefully tore the tissue from the box and held up the gift, slowly admiring it.

It was a pair of jeans. Not just any jeans, he noticed after some examination, they were unlike any he'd ever seen or certainly ever owned before; they were clearly designer, made out of some of the softest and no doubt most comfortable denim Shawn had ever come into contact with. As the article moved passed his face, he noticed that it also had a distinct, almost familiar, smell. No, scratch that, it WAS familiar, he just couldn't for the life of him remember why.

"Gus, smell these."

Gus snapped his attention to Shawn, wearing a skeptical look. "You must be out of your damn mind."

Shawn shrugged off the catchphrase and kept on. "Come on, Gus, they smell awesome."

"No way, Shawn."

"Come on just smell them."

"Why the hell should I?"

"You won't regret it."

"I think I'll pass."

"Come on Gus! One measly whiff!"

"No!"

"Just see if you recognize the smell for me at least."

"That would include me smelling them."

"Yeah."

"I'm not doing that."

"What happened to the Super Sniffer?"

"Not today."

Shawn ended the debate by throwing the pants in Gus' face. Gus thrashed them off and looked at Shawn, who had his eyebrows raised in expectation. Gus shrugged with a neutral expression.

"They do smell pretty good."

"Told you."

"And you were right, I _do_ recognize the smell. Just can't quite place it…"

_So much for the Super Sniffer,_ Shawn thought.

* * *

The day after next was a Sunday, the day before Christmas. Shawn woke up earlier than he expected to, and decided to do some chores around his house-for once. When it came time to do the laundry, he debated whether or not to throw in the jeans. He decided against it, and actually decided to wear them for the day (_they're never going to be _this _clean again_, he figured).

Around nine thirty, his phone rang. He answered with a flourish.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Shawn."

The smooth accent caught his attention as he sat up straight in his chair. "Despereaux!"

He heard him smile over the phone. "How have you been, Shawn?"

"Great! Great. You? How's prison?"

"Bit on the dull side, but fine otherwise."

Something went off in Shawn's head. "Speaking of prison…"

It must've crossed Despereaux's mind, too, as he answered, "Not my doing. Apparently, we're allowed a phone all on Christmas. Crazy, isn't it? Got to love minimum security…anyways, did you get my letter?"

"Yes, yes I did."

Shawn could sense a shift in his tone. "And?"

"And I love them. I don't know where you found such amazing pants-or my size-but keep it up."

Despereaux gave a slightly disappointed sigh as he responded, "Shawn, I'm very glad you enjoy the gift, but that's…not quite the letter I was talking about."

Shawn froze. "There's another one?"

"I take that as a no, you haven't checked the back left pocket."

"…hold on a second."

Shawn set the phone down as he reached in and, sure enough, there was a letter. _How the hell did I miss that?_ he wondered. He unfolded it and read it over. It told him that the smell on the jeans was Despereaux's cologne and that if he were there with him he would…oh.

_Oh._

_Oh wow._

He continued reading, blushing more furiously with each line. His concentration broke when he heard a distant "Shawn?" from his phone, which he quickly picked back up.

"Shawn, did you find it?"

"Yeah," he answered in a cracking voice.

He could all but see Despereaux's smug smile as he replied, "And I take it you've…had some time to read it?"

Shawn nodded, forgetting that he was on the phone. "Despereaux-"

"Call me Pierre."

Shawn had to bite back a moan at how utterly seductive his voice was. "Pierre, if this is going to keep going, I'm going to need to take these pants off."

"No-leave them."

"Why-?"

"Third line from the end."

Shawn reviewed the aforementioned section and gasped, earning a light chuckle from Despre-_Pierre_.

"Oh wow," he all but moaned.

"Wow indeed," Pierre replied. "So what do you say, Shawn? Make my wish come true this Christmas?"

He hardly finished his sentence when Shawn rushed a breathless, "Absolutely."

~FIN~

A/N: So, what did y'all think? Or, I guess more importantly, what did YOU think, Miss Motivation? ;)


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